A Madman and His Couch (4/8)
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three
Jane dreamed as vividly as usual while in hospital. It was mostly disjointed scenes, mere snippets, but somehow he believed they were all interlinked. For a while, he watched a youngish looking man with infinitely old eyes. He wore a tweed jacket, accompanied with a bow tie and seemed entirely oblivious to his strange attire. The man looked on inquisitively and appeared more than a little bit heartbroken until a redhead dragged him away. Another man, this time in an obnoxiously loud suit cursed loudly at a group of pepper pot monsters, while a young brunette watched on. Both remained completely oblivious to Jane's presence but it didn't bother him. Later, he found himself placing a comforting hand on a terribly sad old man's shoulder. In silence, they watched his granddaughter die because he deserted her many years ago, supposedly for her own good.
All of these men were named the Doctor. Whether or not they were the very same man, or different individuals who had each inherited the title, he wasn’t entirely sure. How he knew all that, Jane didn't quite know, but he was certain of that knowledge. These strange men kept popping in and out of his memories and his dreams, and he knew there had to be a reason behind it. After all, as far as he was concerned, there was an explanation for everything.
Most irritatingly, by the time he woke up, he could only remember fragments. All he could remember was the alien scream of 'exterminate', the funny bow tie and the war zone where a young girl bravely walked to her death.
Kimball Cho came to pick him up in the morning. Naturally, Jane was pleased to be leaving the hospital. He hated the place, it made him feel restricted and like he was always being watched. It reminded him of his stint in a mental institution. Then again, the heavy stench of disinfectant cloying in the air always had that effect on him. However, the doctor hadn't given him a clean bill of health and instead, he had told Jane to take it easy for the next few days and to come back should any complications arise. His recovery would take time. Regardless, Jane couldn't help but feel some slight level of resentment that it was Cho standing in the doorframe as he gathered together his belongings. He had hoped - practically expected, even - that it would be Lisbon accompanying him back to the headquarters. In these kinds of situations, it usually was. However, he knew that there had to be a good reason behind it; there always was when it came to Lisbon. The case had probably started picking up and maybe she had finally gotten something useful out of Jankowski. He could only hope for as much, if only for her sake.
Everything ached as he walked tentatively to Cho's car. Usually, he took direct orders with a pinch of salt, but this time he figured that it was probably for the best that he actually listened. Work provided him with company and more importantly, answers. He could remember the blue box and being thrown up into the air but he couldn't recall how or why it happened. Jane loathed blank spaces in his memory palace; they always troubled him. He could only hope that the guys from petty crimes would have more useful information to tell him.
And he also wanted to track down his wedding ring too. He'd asked his doctor what had happened to it and he had immediately responded that he had given it to his wife for safekeeping. It took him half a minute to realize that the man was talking about Lisbon. After all, how was he to know that it was a relic from his past; something which he wore at all times to honor his deceased wife? Though he had been something of a celebrity back in the day, most people had already forgotten about the famous psychic, Patrick Jane. Regardless, Jane needed it back. He felt a little lost without it. If Lisbon had it, then he wanted to get it back off of her as soon as possible. If the doctor had been telling the truth, at least he knew that it would be safe. Even so, it wouldn’t feel right until it was back on his finger.
Cho drove him back to the headquarters smoothly and barely said a word. It didn’t bother Jane; he knew what to expect from the man. He felt at home the moment that he was lying down on his couch. The feel of the smooth, forgiving leather against his aching back did more for him than any hospital bed could have done. The hubbub of noise around him immediately made him relax. One of the guys from Petty Crimes briefly visited him and gave him his side of the story. It did nothing to fill in the gaps in Jane's memory though.
And worse, Lisbon stubbornly stayed away.
She got Rigsby to return his ring and he had already placed it back where it belonged. Van Pelt was in charge of checking his reflexes and the like, and Cho had kept his teacup full but Lisbon still stubbornly refused to see him. It almost seemed like she was punishing him for getting hurt while he was out of her sight. But then, he knew she would have felt ten times worse had he been injured while under her watchful eye. Sometimes, Lisbon really was a martyr to her cause. Jane couldn’t really judge though, he was twice as bad for such things.
In the end, she only came over to him after he started purposefully answering Van Pelt’s questions incorrectly. He’d stated that she was holding up three fingers instead of two, and that two plus two equaled five and the like. Eventually, Van Pelt furrowed her brow and scurried off to fetch Lisbon, who was clearly irritated by the distraction. The scowl on her face suggested that she knew Jane was intentionally messing Van Pelt around in order to get her attention. However, she didn’t say it to his face. Instead, she knelt down beside him and held up two fingers of her own.
“How many fingers?”
“Two,” he answered with a grin.
She rolled her eyes and scooted ever so slightly closer. It didn’t matter that the rest of the team were watching their every move. Next, she asked him for the address of the CBI headquarters and he dutifully reeled it off, even including contact details for each and every one of the team. Briefly, Lisbon glanced back at Van Pelt who shrugged her shoulders before returning her attention to her laptop.
“Where were you born, Jane?”
“What is the point in my answering questions you don’t actually know the answers to?”
“Just answer the damn question,” she seethed back.
“Gallifrey,” he answered quickly.
“And where the hell is that? Somewhere in the Midwest? Ohio?” she guessed.
“Ireland.”
Lisbon suddenly fell silent as she mulled over the information. Jane could practically see her working over the new information. Over the years, he had slowly but surely opened up to her, but even now nuggets like this were few and far between. It wasn’t intentional; Jane trusted her implicitly. It was simply a fact that subjects like this rarely came up between them. The past was a dangerous minefield, one which threatened to blow them up at any given time. Sometimes, it was just safer to stick to more current affairs than digging into anything that might cause either one of them discomfort.
“You’re Irish?”
“Jane is an old Irish name, you know.”
“Oh, of course. Silly me,” she muttered and rolled her eyes. “And you, you were intentionally screwing around with Van Pelt, weren’t you?”
“Maybe I just wanted to see you?”
“Why?”
“Why not?” he countered and she glared at him.
“You’re impossible,” she answered in frustration. “And clearly, you’re feeling much better if you’re behaving like this.”
“Does that mean I’m no longer confined to my couch?”
“No. No! It’s been a day since you were injured, Jane. You’re staying right there.”
He pouted. Jane knew that it was a little juvenile, but he didn’t care. In spite of all the aches and pains, spending three hours on his couch had been more than enough. He wanted to keep his mind active and in his opinion, that meant spending time with Lisbon. However, he could already see that she was itching to get away from him. Jane had hoped that a conversation with her would shed some light on precisely why she was avoiding him; however he was still none the wiser. Her body language was shouting out mixed messages and it irritated him further. Usually, he found her easy to read, but right now, she was all over the place. He already made a mental note not to tell her that though; she would be thrilled by the fact that she had unwittingly outfoxed him.
“I will if you’ll stay with me,” he said hopefully.
“I have a very boring meeting with the M.E. in half an hour. I’m sure you don’t want to listen to conversations about anatomy, do you?”
“Is this to do with the John Doe case?”
“Yes, Jane.”
“Then the M.E. might have discovered the cause of death?”
“That’s what I’m hoping, yes,” she replied dryly. Even sympathy for Jane’s injuries wasn’t enough to quell her sarcastic tongue.
“Fine,” he relented and her expression brightened a little. “But only if you tell me what he has to say as soon as you’re back in the office. And don’t send the message through one of the others this time.”
The rest of the team did a good job at pretending not to hear the conversation, and pretending not to be hurt too. But they also knew that Lisbon was the person Jane was closest to since the death of his wife. A head injury was only going to exacerbate his need to be around her. Besides, they had all noticed her reluctance too. She opened her mouth briefly to retort, but eventually she clamped it shut and nodded in agreement.
While Lisbon was away at her meeting, Jane did his best to relax. His latest cup of tea from Cho remained ignored, stagnating on his side table. He didn’t bother to mess Van Pelt around when she asked her repetitive questions yet again. Jane even allowed Rigsby to talk enthusiastically about Ben’s latest developments to him and responded appropriately. All the while, his mind was elsewhere, wondering about what these increasingly frequent dreams meant and what Lisbon was up to. Of course, those thoughts were entirely unrelated, but as far as he was concerned, they were his biggest issues right now. Over the years, Jane had suffered many a bizarre accident at the workplace; recovering from this kind of thing was no big deal.
Eventually, he heard familiar footsteps approaching. Almost immediately, he sat bolt upright and for a second, he regretted moving quite so fast. Then, he saw Lisbon’s hardened expression and naturally, he wanted to know why. Maybe the M.E. hadn’t been able to identify a cause of death, or there had been some kind of delay which had annoyed her. Instinct told him it was worse than that. True to her word, she headed straight towards him and stopped directly in front of the couch.
“The body’s gone missing,” she stated before he even had a chance to ask.
To Part Five
Jane dreamed as vividly as usual while in hospital. It was mostly disjointed scenes, mere snippets, but somehow he believed they were all interlinked. For a while, he watched a youngish looking man with infinitely old eyes. He wore a tweed jacket, accompanied with a bow tie and seemed entirely oblivious to his strange attire. The man looked on inquisitively and appeared more than a little bit heartbroken until a redhead dragged him away. Another man, this time in an obnoxiously loud suit cursed loudly at a group of pepper pot monsters, while a young brunette watched on. Both remained completely oblivious to Jane's presence but it didn't bother him. Later, he found himself placing a comforting hand on a terribly sad old man's shoulder. In silence, they watched his granddaughter die because he deserted her many years ago, supposedly for her own good.
All of these men were named the Doctor. Whether or not they were the very same man, or different individuals who had each inherited the title, he wasn’t entirely sure. How he knew all that, Jane didn't quite know, but he was certain of that knowledge. These strange men kept popping in and out of his memories and his dreams, and he knew there had to be a reason behind it. After all, as far as he was concerned, there was an explanation for everything.
Most irritatingly, by the time he woke up, he could only remember fragments. All he could remember was the alien scream of 'exterminate', the funny bow tie and the war zone where a young girl bravely walked to her death.
Kimball Cho came to pick him up in the morning. Naturally, Jane was pleased to be leaving the hospital. He hated the place, it made him feel restricted and like he was always being watched. It reminded him of his stint in a mental institution. Then again, the heavy stench of disinfectant cloying in the air always had that effect on him. However, the doctor hadn't given him a clean bill of health and instead, he had told Jane to take it easy for the next few days and to come back should any complications arise. His recovery would take time. Regardless, Jane couldn't help but feel some slight level of resentment that it was Cho standing in the doorframe as he gathered together his belongings. He had hoped - practically expected, even - that it would be Lisbon accompanying him back to the headquarters. In these kinds of situations, it usually was. However, he knew that there had to be a good reason behind it; there always was when it came to Lisbon. The case had probably started picking up and maybe she had finally gotten something useful out of Jankowski. He could only hope for as much, if only for her sake.
Everything ached as he walked tentatively to Cho's car. Usually, he took direct orders with a pinch of salt, but this time he figured that it was probably for the best that he actually listened. Work provided him with company and more importantly, answers. He could remember the blue box and being thrown up into the air but he couldn't recall how or why it happened. Jane loathed blank spaces in his memory palace; they always troubled him. He could only hope that the guys from petty crimes would have more useful information to tell him.
And he also wanted to track down his wedding ring too. He'd asked his doctor what had happened to it and he had immediately responded that he had given it to his wife for safekeeping. It took him half a minute to realize that the man was talking about Lisbon. After all, how was he to know that it was a relic from his past; something which he wore at all times to honor his deceased wife? Though he had been something of a celebrity back in the day, most people had already forgotten about the famous psychic, Patrick Jane. Regardless, Jane needed it back. He felt a little lost without it. If Lisbon had it, then he wanted to get it back off of her as soon as possible. If the doctor had been telling the truth, at least he knew that it would be safe. Even so, it wouldn’t feel right until it was back on his finger.
Cho drove him back to the headquarters smoothly and barely said a word. It didn’t bother Jane; he knew what to expect from the man. He felt at home the moment that he was lying down on his couch. The feel of the smooth, forgiving leather against his aching back did more for him than any hospital bed could have done. The hubbub of noise around him immediately made him relax. One of the guys from Petty Crimes briefly visited him and gave him his side of the story. It did nothing to fill in the gaps in Jane's memory though.
And worse, Lisbon stubbornly stayed away.
She got Rigsby to return his ring and he had already placed it back where it belonged. Van Pelt was in charge of checking his reflexes and the like, and Cho had kept his teacup full but Lisbon still stubbornly refused to see him. It almost seemed like she was punishing him for getting hurt while he was out of her sight. But then, he knew she would have felt ten times worse had he been injured while under her watchful eye. Sometimes, Lisbon really was a martyr to her cause. Jane couldn’t really judge though, he was twice as bad for such things.
In the end, she only came over to him after he started purposefully answering Van Pelt’s questions incorrectly. He’d stated that she was holding up three fingers instead of two, and that two plus two equaled five and the like. Eventually, Van Pelt furrowed her brow and scurried off to fetch Lisbon, who was clearly irritated by the distraction. The scowl on her face suggested that she knew Jane was intentionally messing Van Pelt around in order to get her attention. However, she didn’t say it to his face. Instead, she knelt down beside him and held up two fingers of her own.
“How many fingers?”
“Two,” he answered with a grin.
She rolled her eyes and scooted ever so slightly closer. It didn’t matter that the rest of the team were watching their every move. Next, she asked him for the address of the CBI headquarters and he dutifully reeled it off, even including contact details for each and every one of the team. Briefly, Lisbon glanced back at Van Pelt who shrugged her shoulders before returning her attention to her laptop.
“Where were you born, Jane?”
“What is the point in my answering questions you don’t actually know the answers to?”
“Just answer the damn question,” she seethed back.
“Gallifrey,” he answered quickly.
“And where the hell is that? Somewhere in the Midwest? Ohio?” she guessed.
“Ireland.”
Lisbon suddenly fell silent as she mulled over the information. Jane could practically see her working over the new information. Over the years, he had slowly but surely opened up to her, but even now nuggets like this were few and far between. It wasn’t intentional; Jane trusted her implicitly. It was simply a fact that subjects like this rarely came up between them. The past was a dangerous minefield, one which threatened to blow them up at any given time. Sometimes, it was just safer to stick to more current affairs than digging into anything that might cause either one of them discomfort.
“You’re Irish?”
“Jane is an old Irish name, you know.”
“Oh, of course. Silly me,” she muttered and rolled her eyes. “And you, you were intentionally screwing around with Van Pelt, weren’t you?”
“Maybe I just wanted to see you?”
“Why?”
“Why not?” he countered and she glared at him.
“You’re impossible,” she answered in frustration. “And clearly, you’re feeling much better if you’re behaving like this.”
“Does that mean I’m no longer confined to my couch?”
“No. No! It’s been a day since you were injured, Jane. You’re staying right there.”
He pouted. Jane knew that it was a little juvenile, but he didn’t care. In spite of all the aches and pains, spending three hours on his couch had been more than enough. He wanted to keep his mind active and in his opinion, that meant spending time with Lisbon. However, he could already see that she was itching to get away from him. Jane had hoped that a conversation with her would shed some light on precisely why she was avoiding him; however he was still none the wiser. Her body language was shouting out mixed messages and it irritated him further. Usually, he found her easy to read, but right now, she was all over the place. He already made a mental note not to tell her that though; she would be thrilled by the fact that she had unwittingly outfoxed him.
“I will if you’ll stay with me,” he said hopefully.
“I have a very boring meeting with the M.E. in half an hour. I’m sure you don’t want to listen to conversations about anatomy, do you?”
“Is this to do with the John Doe case?”
“Yes, Jane.”
“Then the M.E. might have discovered the cause of death?”
“That’s what I’m hoping, yes,” she replied dryly. Even sympathy for Jane’s injuries wasn’t enough to quell her sarcastic tongue.
“Fine,” he relented and her expression brightened a little. “But only if you tell me what he has to say as soon as you’re back in the office. And don’t send the message through one of the others this time.”
The rest of the team did a good job at pretending not to hear the conversation, and pretending not to be hurt too. But they also knew that Lisbon was the person Jane was closest to since the death of his wife. A head injury was only going to exacerbate his need to be around her. Besides, they had all noticed her reluctance too. She opened her mouth briefly to retort, but eventually she clamped it shut and nodded in agreement.
While Lisbon was away at her meeting, Jane did his best to relax. His latest cup of tea from Cho remained ignored, stagnating on his side table. He didn’t bother to mess Van Pelt around when she asked her repetitive questions yet again. Jane even allowed Rigsby to talk enthusiastically about Ben’s latest developments to him and responded appropriately. All the while, his mind was elsewhere, wondering about what these increasingly frequent dreams meant and what Lisbon was up to. Of course, those thoughts were entirely unrelated, but as far as he was concerned, they were his biggest issues right now. Over the years, Jane had suffered many a bizarre accident at the workplace; recovering from this kind of thing was no big deal.
Eventually, he heard familiar footsteps approaching. Almost immediately, he sat bolt upright and for a second, he regretted moving quite so fast. Then, he saw Lisbon’s hardened expression and naturally, he wanted to know why. Maybe the M.E. hadn’t been able to identify a cause of death, or there had been some kind of delay which had annoyed her. Instinct told him it was worse than that. True to her word, she headed straight towards him and stopped directly in front of the couch.
“The body’s gone missing,” she stated before he even had a chance to ask.
To Part Five